


Killing Me Softly

by MarcoFro5



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 00:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30097410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcoFro5/pseuds/MarcoFro5
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Killing Me Softly

Each lyric was belted out like a middle finger in the face of today’s date. It was hard to call this singing and that’s what made it fun, the girl using the microphone practically drowned out by the dozen or so who sang along. Renting a private room for the night was definitely the right choice and barely a dent to the wallet since they all pitched in. It spared them the awkwardness of being in a bar on Valentine’s Day. Still, Sabah couldn’t help but feel like some sort of undercover agent.

“Did you want some?” Monica said, derailing Sabah’s train of thought. It took Monica giving the copper mug in her hand a little shake for Sabah to understand what she was referring to.

“Oh,” Sabah said, flashing a smile of appreciation that felt forced even though she really meant it. “That’s okay. Thanks.”

“Are you sure?” Monica pressed, pushing the drink closer to Sabah to the point she couldn’t ignore the minty scent. “The server isn’t here, no one will care.”

“I’m good,” Sabah repeated, leaning forward and grabbing her glass of lemon-lime soda to help drown the feeling that she really wanted a drink right now. 

Monica thankfully didn’t press, taking a long sip from her moscow mule and leaning back in the booth they shared. Well, it was hard to call it a booth. The seating was open, a long and low table in the center of a ring of cushioned seating. It was nicer than Sabah expected when Monica pitched the idea to her hours earlier, although the seat didn’t help her relax.

“Are you having fun at least?” Monica asked, casual enough that Sabah could tell it was meant to get her to open up. Or a genuine reaching out from her friend. Sabah’s leg was bouncing and she stilled it, relying on another gulp of soda to calm her nerves.

“Yeah, it’s a good time, thanks for inviting me,” Sabah said.

“Of course, I figured this would be more fun than just being turtled up in the dorm all night,” Monica said, taking another long drink from her mug. It wasn’t that Sabah wasn’t a drinker, she just wasn’t a fan of doing it with strangers or large groups. Besides, she wanted to be in the right state of mind for tonight to make sure she didn’t make a fool of herself. 

Sabah was like a fish out of water here, surrounded by members of Monica’s sorority during their night out for Valentine’s Day. There were a few faces she’d seen in passing when they came over to the dorm room she and Monica shared. The only one she truly recognized though was the one on stage now, screaming out a song Sabah had never heard before.

“Lyra’s really good,” Sabah said, yanking her eyes away from the stage and back to her soda.

“Oh yeah?” Monica said, leaning forward to make sure Sabah saw her waggle her eyebrows. Sabah rolled her eyes, determined not to give her any satisfaction even though her cheeks were heating up. 

“It’s not like that,” Sabah said, forcing herself to relax.

“It could,” Monica said. “She asks about you, y’know. I think she would be interested if those stars aligned.”

Sabah couldn’t feign the surprise on her face before narrowing her expression into a glare at Monica. Calling her out as a liar would be mean, but Sabah had a hard time believing Lyra had ever devoted an ounce of thought about her beyond brief run-ins. Although now Sabah couldn’t help but feel like those encounters were more intentional than accidental now that Monica wiggled the idea into her head. 

“Let me call her over,” Monica said, standing up. It was like cold water rushed over Sabah.

“Absolutely not,” Sabah said, grabbing a hold of Monica’s shirt and yanking it as if that could possibly stop her. Lyra’s song finished in the midst of Sabah’s protests, a few heads turning their way. The attention was enough to make Sabah surrender while Monica waved Lyra over.

Sabah stared at the beads of condensation on her glass as if she expected them to burst, trying not to pay any attention to Lyra barely a foot away from her. Still, it was as if her other senses decided to pick up the slack. She smelled like a sawblade, Sabah able to pick up on the hints of cedar and steel from whatever she was wearing.

“Right, Sabah?”

Sabah looked up at a sneering Monica after being put on the spot. Silently, she cursed the algorithm that stuck her with this devil as a roommate. Those thoughts were choked by Lyra in her peripheral, face earning more attention. Sabah noticed the stud in her cheek first, nothing really fancy to it other than the fact that it was there, cool metal sunken into pale skin. Half of her face was framed by straw-colored hair that hung to her shoulders, longer than the last time she saw her when it was shaved to her scalp. Her blue eyes hid in smoky clouds of eyeshadow, as if daring to be found.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” Sabah admitted, returning to her staring match with her glass.

“Sabah was going on and on about how impressed she was with your song,” Monica said.

“Oh?” Lyra said, smirk practically audible. One of the beads of condensation sprinted down the glass, pooling at the bottom.

“Yeah, I haven’t heard that song before,” Sabah said, trying to make eye contact as casual as possible with her. Monica sat down beside Sabah, taking up enough real estate on the left of her that it would be too much of a hassle for Lyra to walk past the both of them instead of just sitting down on Sabah’s right.

“That’s surprising,” Lyra said, settling down next to her. “You have that quiet, secretly listens to R&B in the shower vibe.”

“Oh, uh, not really, no,” Sabah managed. She turned to Monica for her to absorb some of the attention only to see her halfway across the room chatting it up with some other girls. Truly the devil.

“So what do you listen to?” Lyra asked.

“Not much,” Sabah lied, scared she’d say something wrong even if not possible. “Stuff on the radio when I’m driving or when Monica puts something on.”

“You have a car?” Lyra asked.

“Yeah, but nothing special or anything.”

“I’m sure Monica is grateful for having someone haul her around,” Lyra said, smiling. “I think it’s really cool for you to D.D. tonight.”

She got a bit closer and clinked Sabah’s glass with her nails, each detailed in some checkerboard design that Sabah didn’t get too good of a look at. Sabah was much more focused on the little distance between them now as Lyra leaned further back in the booth, getting comfortable and twisting her body so she was facing Sabah.

“Are you going to sing tonight?”

Sabah scoffed, looking up at the stage as one of the girls was making full use of her turn by shouting something about anacondas and small waists.

“I don’t think that would be much fun for anyone,” Sabah said.

“If it’s not your thing, then it’s not your thing,” Lyra said. “But I can guarantee I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Maybe, I could sing just for you then?” Sabah said, words spilling out. Her head was making moves she wasn’t sure her heart could catch, a frantic beat playing in her chest. 

Lyra’s smile didn’t help slow things down. Sabah took another sip from her drink, the ice falling like a miniature avalanche to cool her heated cheeks. By the time Sabah got her bearings and nestled the glass back between her thighs, Lyra brandished a pair of headphones and her phone. The sweat that Sabah was trying to keep at bay was present now as she realized Lyra was calling her bluff.

“I wasn’t being serious,” Sabah surrendered.

“You don’t have to, just thought we could chill. Share some music, maybe. I make my own, but I won’t torment you to that,” she said, laughing.

“I’d be down for that,” Sabah admitted, only for Lyra to shake her head. She handed over one end of the headphones after plugging them into her phone. The cord was tangled, forcing Sabah to get closer so that it wasn’t yanked out of her ear once in. There was some numbness all over, everything outside of the foot or so they shared feeling like background noise.

“Another time, maybe,” Lyra said, the sound of her voice half-muted. Sabah saw her turning the dial on her phone’s screen, cycling through songs until landing on one. Before she could come up with anything to say, the song started, Lyra cradling into her to give her a good look at the lyrics on screen.

“Wow, her voice is amazing,” Sabah whispered, not wanting to talk over the woman’s smooth voice in the song.

“Lauryn Hill, I think,” Lyra whispered back, not elaborating any further. The song felt intimate enough that Sabah felt like singing along would be more of a nuisance than anything. She didn’t hear Lyra humming along but felt it, light vibrations reaching Sabah like a buzz. It was too hard not to hum along in this moment that felt like something stolen from a dream. Sabah didn’t question it further, buzzing along in harmony.


End file.
